Benign
by itsadreamanditsabitofadance
Summary: A chance encounter with Spike and Clem causes Buffy to re-think everything she thinks she knows about demons, humans, and their morality. First Buffy fic...
1. Never fight with corn chips

First Buffy fic of hopefully many. I'm breeding my plot bunnies to scare the living demon out of Anya. Dialogue paraphrased from 'Doomed.'

Dedicated to Joss, of course, for enriching my life and thoughts through the context of feminism in Buffy. And for making me so sad that Buffy is my life's focal point.

 **Benign**

His skin flapped in an ungainly fashion, the unexpected exertion causing secreted cards, crisps and chicken to fall out of its myriad of folds. He ducked, and attempted to hit her with a grab bag of Doritos, helplessly slapping at her with corn chips.

"Clem?" A British voice filtered through the trees around Restfield. "What happened to Passions night?" it moaned indignantly.

"Oh for Christ's sake," she muttered. "Him again."

He wailed impassionedly. "Spike, come on-the Slayer attacked me!"

"You're a freaking demon! With all the bad-making. Don't complain!" she retorted.

"You think I chose this? All I wanna do is sit with my friends and watch soap operas. Speaking of which-SPIKE! Where the flip are you, man?"

"Gods, Clem-I'm he…" The voice petered out as a white-blond flash rounded the trees into the clearing. "You weren't bloody joking, were you? Sod off, Slayer, he in't doing any harm."

"Not doing yourself any favours in the…me-doing-you-favours department if you're going to tell me to 'sod off'," she grumbled in the most adorably terrible English accent Spike had ever heard. His cheekbones were doing wonders for her lack-of-witty-retort cortex. She was doing the same for him, although neither were aware of the other's fixation.

Clem, however, was.

"I'll be off then…" he drawled quietly, nervously.

"No, you won't." The united hiss came simultaneously from the two transfixed enemies. Neither looking away from each other, the power of command in their voices was nonetheless sufficient for Clem to immediately and obediently sit down on the gravestone of Richard Wilkins I.

"What were you doing attacking him, Slayer? Can't you see he's sodding harmless?"

"He's a demon, Spike. Ergo with the bad newsing."

"Look, whilst I appreciate your efforts in butchering the English language, love, I can't help but notice that you don't put the same amount of dedication into deciding which demons to off."

"All of them. Don't you see? You're impotent," she snarled, eager to get him away from her whilst subconsciously they both edged ever closer, "so I haven't staked you yet, but if it stops working then you're a goner, Spike."

"And I'm not capable of change?" whispered Spike, a trace of William noticeably present in his voice.

"Again with the whole spiel of Demon, The, killed by Slayer, The. Look it up, Spike."

"Watcher's bollocks. Of course."

"Guys…er…can I just…ah…erm…go and set up for our Passions marathon?"

"No," they both intoned in a 'duh' fashion, and then looked back at each other even more sharply before. "Why do you want him to stay, Slayer?" Spike got there first.

"To kill him. Why do you want-oh. Passions. Of course…"

"No. actually."

"Why, then?"

"I wanna teach you a lesson, kitten."


	2. Let's paint the town with mist

"And what the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"Come on," he grasped her wrist pulling her along with him, "we've got some friends of mine to see."

"And...I'm just tagging along, am I? Er-ok then," Clem mumbled, evidently hacked off at being ignored.

"Come on, mate! We're showing the Slayer what she doesn't know!" Spike enthused over his shoulder, dragging Buffy into the mist that lingered amongst the branches, swirling in a horror story way that was not lost on Buffy.

"Spike...let me go..." she murmured, knowing that she should think it was an omen but knowing deep down that living within it was something she should do, at least when patrolling, and her reluctance to be let go was in turn not lost on Spike.

"Oh, you don't want to, pet. You're in for one helluva night. Come on, let loose!" He slipped into game face, and grinned in a way that Buffy thought Wills or Xand might have found sinister. But somehow she could see through Spike's ridges, into his eyes. She knew that despite his cruel words earlier, he was...excited. She felt a smile tugging at her mouth, a little smirk to echo his habitual one. He looked almost childlike in his anticipation as they stopped in the middle of Shady Rest, and he let go of her arm-that she had realised he was holding oh-so-softly- and took great long strides backwards, smiling benevolently at her, spinning around with arms opened wide as he waited for the slightly-less-fit Clem to catch up with them.

The crunch of crisps ruined the moment as Clem staggered into sight, panting that he needed to keep his energy up if the were going to run so quickly off together.

Together? Buffy thought, and realised that they ran so well in sync, and it was so freeing to do something that she didn't need to hold back whilst doing. Even last week's sex-fest with Riley hadn't been completely relaxing.

She quelled the thought. Poltergeist, she countered with. Her spidey-senses wouldn't have let her calm down with something like that in Lowell. It had nothing to do with the fact that there hadn't been something blue with her that night, staring at her like she wouldn't admit to dreaming of since Willow's will be done spell.

"Slayer?" Spike's voice permeated her mind. He thought she looked beautiful like that, wistfully looking at him-no, _through him_ , he contemplated pleasantly. Like she was thinking of something else they could be doing.

His tongue curled behind his teeth.

She jolted back to reality.

He heard her heart speed up.

She saw his smirk, threaded through with actual happiness. An emotion that she didn't want to recognise in a vampire when they weren't ripping out throats.

"Er...guys? Hate to be a bore, but I think we have to go-" Clem's intended trailing off was cut short by an 'Ooff' of pain as he was clubbed over the head. He collapsed to the floor, cradling the food that had spilled from his rucksack in an action that would have been poignant were Buffy and Spike not fighting the very vamp that had hit him over the head.

Strange tingles on their necks caused them to look up as they ducked, spun and kicked like a tag team. Their mouths opened and one word fell out simultaneously.

"Angel?"


	3. How to kick your ex's butt

**A/N:** **Let's just say that Angel lost his soul properly around this time on Angel. That the ecstasy served to get him into bed with Rebecca in 'Eternity.'**

"Angel?"

"Angelus, actually, honey. Been running a rampage around LA, but then I thought-well, what's a little world-torture without visiting my one true girl, eh?" The Irish lilt had slipped back into his voice, a reminder of his evil persona that gave Buffy the wiggins. "And Spike...aw, did ickle Willie get a chance to surface when they shoved that luvverly hunka metal up yer cranium?"

Buffy found her voice. "What's he mean, Spike?" Her voice trembled, and she left out words when she spoke, but Spike still was grateful she was there. He broke eye contact with his grandsire to glance at her with more reassurance than he felt. "No idea, love." His words came out laden with bravado, and he felt bloody proud of himself in the face of the slightly taller vampire.

"Oh ho, but he does," came the silence breaker from Angelus. Spike and Buffy had continued to gaze at each other in mutual kindness and a united front against him, and his possessive side came out. He hated Buffy, but she was his to torture. He rubbed his hands together. "Anyway, what're we doing standin' around an' catchin' up? We got ourselves an each other ta kill-" His left fist flew straight into Buffy's face, and his left leg into Spike's groin, and they winked and grabbed the offending limb and snapped it up.

"Jesu Maria!" Angelus shouted, as Buffy used her stylish-yet-affordable boots to kick him in the...area. Let no one deny her power in the face of an ex-lover, she thought savagely, before thrusting her stake in for the kill-

She couldn't. She may not be totally _in_ love with the guy anymore, but she'd given him her virginity.

Angelus used her pause to kip up to punch Spike, and she saw red, lashing out to spin him around and floor once again, but he turned and ran, his face a mask of pain.

She remembered the demon lying on the ground, and against her Slayer instincts she followed her Buffy ones-Angelus seemed to have done a number on him, a throbbing purple bruise surfacing on his slack, pale scalp. She tentatively reached a hand out, realising the smaller bruises dotted around the demon that had tried to warn her of her vindictive ex were actually of her infliction. "Hey, er...thanks for what you did. I'm-well I guess I'm sorry for what I did, you know, beating you up and all. I thought you were, well, evil?" Her vocal inflection rose at the end, making her sound questioning, and for one small moment as Clem accepted her help up, Spike saw the woman she still was, even as the Slayer. She embraced that side of her, even when dealing with ostensibly-but-not evil demons like Clem. It made him lo-

Hold it right there, William, he told the ponce inside himself sternly. Admire her. Grudgingly respect her. But never lo-

"Spike? Erm, could you give us a hand?" called Clem plaintively.

As Spike went over to help his friend stand, he smiled.


	4. Cold cream and demons

With the Slayer's little hand around his admittedly ample waist, supporting him, Clem felt surprisingly safe. The girl was a sweetie, from what Spike let through his guard and what Clem now knew first hand, but the poor thing obviously didn't know of the fine shades and nuances of grey that there were in the world. He supposed that was helpful-if she did, she would always be wondering which demons were baying for her blood, but unfortunately it had led to his current state of bruise peppered skin. He considered her, and whether her concern for him would win out over what Spike had called 'Watcher's bollocks.' It might even be her world view; were they supposed to change that? He glanced to Spike, a query in his eyes: Why?

Spike rejoined with a quick flash of his gaze to Buffy: Look.

Clem followed his stare to where the Slayer was scrutinising his every wound, reaching into the bag she had just managed to snatch before Spike had dragged them to Shady Rest; Clem was curious as to its contents. She pulled out some arnica, and said: "Hey, er-those bruises I-I gave you seem to be pretty bad. Er-could I put a little of this on to stop them getting much worse?"

He nodded, incredulity in his look to Spike-Christ! The girl was _good._ As in helpful, kind, caring good, on top of a tendency to kick Angelus' ass well and properly. Clem staggered to the closest tomb, pulling himself on top of it, and pulling up the sleeve of his t-shirt so she could apply the bruise cream.

"Thanks, Slayer. He's a nice guy-"

"I'm doing this because I hurt him and he still tried to warn us a-about Angel. I mean Angelus. This has nothing to do with whether he thinks that somehow _you're_ his friend." Ah. Her tone was clipped. She was also a little touchy around his friend.

"Well," he croaked out, " _I'd_ like to say thanks. Really. I mean, you didn't have to."

"You're welcome," she whispered, averting her eyes to his arm and blushing a little, wondering why this demon she beat up was thanking her. Her gaze softened to match the golden rose on her cheeks; Spike, on the other side of the sarcophagus, let out a little sigh.

She channelled her inner Cordelia, still looking steadfastly down. "Don't you have an elsewhere to be, Spi-?"

Her quick glance up revealed a stunningly handsome vampire looking down at her with such admiration in his eyes she smiled a little. It became too much; she moved away, declaring a need to get to Giles as she hoisted the first aid kit upon her shoulder.

"We need to tell him Angelus is back."

"Yeah, Slayer, but we can't leave Clem now,can we?"

"Oh, yeah," she muttered shamefacedly. "Sorry Clem, I'm not really used to the demon helpage."

Clem was just touched that she apologised at all. He smiled. "I don't care," he declared to his new friend. "Take me to your Watcher. I think...well, I guess I'd like to get to know you better." He grinned at Buffy through the pulsating pain in his head. "Why not?"

Spike mock-glared at him, a little bit of upset and not getting to be alone with the Slayer shining through, despite his protestations about abandoning Clem.

And in that moment, as the other two looked back to one another, Clem knew.

Spike was head-over-heels for the Slayer.


	5. Father and daughter

**A/N: British here. Any British pronunciation is the way I hear it around. Sorry if it doesn't meet up to standards e.g. innit when I say in't. Also sorry for mistakes; still in school** **:^) Thanks for reading! Really enjoying writing this. Reviews would be awesome!**

"Buffy!"

Oh God.

"It's four o'clock in the morning-why on Earth didn't you at least call on a payphone?" Giles ran his hand over the new phone he'd gotten during the debacle with the incongruent Librarian Fyarl and Ethan Rayne. "It's not hard! In fact, I daresay it's easier than the rotary one you used to phone your mother from here before I broke it!"

Crap.

"Giles, why the wig?" she said wearily, and his hands flew to his head.

"Ah, of course-your charming talent for misusing that word," he said in a tone that would have anyone else running in fear from Ripper, but to Buffy merely meant exasperated affection. "We had a call from a very weak Cordelia in hospital today. She says-"

"Angelus is coming?"

"Precisel- no, Buffy." It was not a denial of the truth, but a disbelieving 'no'. One that wished to block out the pain he would hear coming forth from his surrogate daughter's lips imminently.

"Yes. We met him."

"We?" Giles' voice was disapproving, although ultimately sympathetic. But it meant, Christ, Willow and Xander too?

Here we go, she thought. "Spike and I." Unexpectedly, the tut did not pass through Giles' lips as she had been anticipating. She continued, the chance to explain what seemed to be an anomaly. "And Clem."

"Clem? Who the bloody hell is Clem and why did you put them in danger?"

Per the plan, other two hobbled down the stairs, naturally behind Buffy due to Clem's constant state of in-between-planes-of-consciousness.

Buffy had turned to greet them once again, serene smile gracing her face at the care-that she continued to outwardly deny Spike the right to show- being directed towards his friend, when a well-bred British voice cut through her inner ramblings.

"A _demon_?"

"Yes, Giles, let me explain..."

Council etiquette warred with love for Buffy on Giles' face, and love won out.

"Sodding hell, I guess you'd all better bloody come in then. And Spike, no fags. Unless you give me one too."

0000000000000000000000000

"And so we came here, Rupes," finished Spike, casting an eye over the woman now curled up on the end of the sofa under Giles' arm, wrapped in a blanket.

"And he went straight in for the kill, you say?"

"Yeah. Unlike him, in't it?

Giles contemplated this, his scars from the torture both physical and emotional. He shivered at the thought of Jenny. "Indeed." He smiled a rare smile to Spike, and then bestowed it upon the drowsy girl in his arms. "Thanks for looking after her," Giles said, not entirely begrudgingly. Spike had proved a good companion to moan about the lack of Cadbury's and Walkers over here with. "And you should be getting to bed!" He picked up Buffy and carried her through to the guest room. "You wouldn't mind calling Joyce to tell her of...his presence and Willow of that and Buffy's absence tonight whilst I check that Buffy is alright, would you?"

Ah, humans and their love. He missed it. Sometimes. But when he thought of love, he no longer saw his black princess but a flash of golden hair and skin.

"Spike?"

"Uh, yes. Sure, Rupes."

"Don't call me that. It's as bad as G-Man," came the refrain from round the corner.

0000000000000000000000000

"Buffy, love?" Giles whispered as he laid her on the guest bed.

"Dad?" He grinned at that.

"No, it's Giles, dear. But I wanted to check that you'll be alright."

"About what, Dad?" He decided to let it slide this time. He was only human, and he'd always wanted a daughter like her. Who was he to give up the family she offered him?

"Angelus," he said anyway, hating to break the moment but confused about her seeming lack of concern. "I trust you to stay strong, and back when you were completely in love with him you managed to save the world. You're amazing, my dear, and it's a privilege to watch you grow into someone with the power to do anything she wants."

"Him? Oh he's just another vampire." Giles almost felt slighted, and she carried on. "I don't want him anymore. Now," she yawned, speaking through it as her speech slurred and she turned into the pillow, "I think if Spike turned again it might be different. I trust him, Dad." A mewl came from the back of her throat as she curled, cat-like, into the mattress. He edged away, feeling intrusive. As he was about to turn his back he heard a little grunt that sounded like "Daddy." He spun around in time to hear her next few words.

"Thank you. I love you."


	6. Presenting a 'united front'

**A/N: I just had THE nicest review from momnesia, so thank you ever so much :)**

"Clem?" Spike was on the chair, whispering at the lump on the couch and cuddling his crisps to his chest. They crackled every time he moved. "Clem!"

"What?" A drowsy voice drifted over to Spike. "Mr. Giles was nice enough to lend me his sofa because of something Buffy said about you, and you want me to do him the discredit of moving? Come on, man. Also, _I don't want to._ "

Spike glowed at the reminder of the Watcher's bemusement as he 'respected Buffy's wishes, and so would not want her to wake up and find them gone.' He remembered what he wanted to ask Clem.

"I wasn't going to ask you to move, mate. I was going to ask you to _sodding shut the hell up_ ," the last bit a hiss that sounded more ominous than his shout-whispers. "I can't get my beauty sleep."

"And?"

"You're so loud," Spike grumbled before turning to his friend and sincerely asking how he was.

"I'm ok, I guess," replied Clem, the mock-anger moment passing as he dropped the Doritos onto Giles' table. "Arnica works a charm. You should get some for that first aid kit you nick-"

"Shut it! I got it from the Watcher himself-he can never know..." Spike trailed off as he flew across the room to put his hand over Clem's mouth. When Clem stopped squirming and they were both still, a rustle could be heard.

From outside.

0000000000000000000000000

Buffy awoke in a white room. Literally all she could see was a clinical blank page, echoing her worst dreams of a hospital.

And yet, somehow, this was worse than that.

As her gaze unblurred, she attempted to raise herself off the steel table she was lying on. Her first thought was of the Cruciamentum-she had not felt so since then, but looked down and noticed the straitjacket she was trussed up in, and the bonds that tied her to the table just to make sure. She was weak and bound, and her next thought was how she was _so_ going to make whoever did this pay. She remembered what Giles had said, to give her comfort, and lay back.

She was hit with a flashback.

0000000000000000000000000

"What was that?" Spike's smooth voice came through the ajar doorway. He sounded a little freaked; if Spike was, then it was probably cause for alarm. She got to her feet and tiptoed to the main area of the apartment, a blanket still wrapped around her for warmth.

Spike had his back to her, surveying the room for exits, entrances, and weapons, and feeling tingles...crap. Familiar tingles.

Sodding..."Angelus..." he breathed, unnecessarily.

The door crashed in. "That's right, Spikey boy," an Irish voice could be heard.

"My dark prince," could also be heard.

0000000000000000000000000

"Crap," whispered Buffy hoarsely, not noticing her 'bed' being wheeled through the complex, so tightly shut were her eyes screwed in concentration. Her thoughts were with Spike and Giles-and her new friend, Clem. What had happened to them?

Spike had turned, his face alight with both fear and excitement, to see Buffy looking with hardened hatred towards both Drusilla and Angelus, no quiver of fear evident but to him. Clem cowered under the sofa, away from where the two master vampires could see him.

"It's OK, kitten," he reassured the woman who, when faced with two evils had evidently chosen him. She dropped the blanket and strode out to stand next to him, a wary grin upon her face.

"Don't call me kitten," she lightly slapped him on the arm. She was finally letting herself trust Spike and almost forgot the two others standing at the door consumed with jealousy but for the prickling on her neck.

His blue eyes glinted as they broke the eye contact to turn to their exes. "Thought you could make us lonely? Thought you could make _us_ want you back?" An almost imperceptible wink to Buffy as he grabbed her hand. She saw his plan formulating.

"We don't want _you,_ " she intoned, realising the truth of it as she said it. Realised that perhaps, rather than a way to present a united front to Angelus, this might have been a way to be with Spike, and then blame it on the acting. Denial!Buffy wouldn't take her over this time though. She looked up to see Giles hanging over the banister, nodding as he realised what she had to do.

She took Spike's head in her hand and gathered him to her in a kiss that was slow and sweet, and left her wanting more, when she saw an arrow hit Spike's chest.

A moment of shock, ended by a club to the head.

0000000000000000000000000

She awoke gasping, only to find that she was in the middle of an operation. A hammer and drill were to her head.

She screamed.


	7. Fallout and casual assault of army force

What the _hell_ had they done to Spike?

For a moment she forgot what the people in white were doing to her head; she saw red and in a feat of incredible strength ripped through her bonds, fuelled by her anger. She pushed the doctor preparing to insert a chip into her brain aside and strode out of the room, sobbing as she remembered the look on his face as the arrow had hit him, fired by his own sire. She guessed he was dead. And he her friend too.

It was funny to think at his end she had trusted him more than Angelus, her ex-lover and the guy who'd knocked her out.

Except it wasn't funny, because he was _dead._

00000000000000000000000000

He wasn't dead. But, he thought, in the depths of despair, she probably was.

Spike fluidly rolled up from the chair in his crypt, trudging through the dust of his sire, the only pang being a familial sire-bond one.

00000000000000000000000000

What had happened? As Dru had fired the shot, Angelus was preparing to swirl round, to knock Buffy out with the hilt of his sword. Once the arrow had been released, Angelus had swung around to do so, her hitting the ground before Spike could look up in pain at Dru, who had missed. On purpose? No. He could read her like a book, and she was pouting at her 'Daddy' in apology. He turned back, but the poofter was making a dramatic exit with Buffy hooked over his shoulder. Dru would have followed, were it not for the spine of wood piercing her own, flung with unerring precision and anger at her by Spike, that turned her to the dust she should have been 100 years before.

Spike had sat down for but one minute, placing a reassuring hand on a quivering Clem's shoulder before deciding that, having now taken care of his friend, he could go after his Slayer.

The Slayer.

You know, if he _had_ to.

To save the world and all.

Not because he'd been denying himself that pleasure since Angelus' swooshy coat had made its stupid exit.

No way.

00000000000000000000000000

Giles had seen it all unfold, a terrible set of tableaux, each one staying as a still in his mind. The kiss. The unification. The unconsciousness.

Christ, he had wanted to scream, but he recognised that he was no use to Buffy dead. That hadn't stopped him from crying now, the only sound that jolted through his haze of tears was the slam of the door and Spike's thudding footsteps as he ran up the courtyard steps.

"Wait!"

Spike rotated on his heel impatiently. "What, Watcher? Gotta get our-your girl, han't I?"

Summoning his imperious voice, Giles voiced that he was coming too. But he suspected that Spike the character studier saw through it all, and in a steadier, softer accent that belied the violence of his words, got the response: "Then get your arse moving, Rupes. I have not got all day!"

00000000000000000000000000

Clem was not pleased.

How...just how could he hear of the great Bangel romance and then see that? The poor dear had, from what Spike had told him, had a number done on her-fooling herself into thinking no soul meant no emotion in all vampires, simply to account for her ex's evilness and hatred, and ruining Spike's chances, unless he-Clem- could fix it by enlisting his friends. He had an inkling of where she might have got to; on the grapevine he had heard of an underground group giving out rewards for her head. Literally underground.

The girl had the cavalry coming. He and Spike had discussed their plan of action; it was time to get some of those nice moleworm demons on side to dig her out.

00000000000000000000000000

If it was possible, her captors should have been even more secure when it came to containing a vastly pissed off Slayer. They had a girl effortlessly beating away highly trained soldiers-no girls, she noted, which would have annoyed her until she realised, further in, that this was the Initiative, and there was Maggie, and no one should have to deal with that level of bitchiness, and that the girls would have seen that level a mile off.

"Bloody eyeshadow," she muttered in a Spike voice, punching someone casually in the face. "Dead giveaway."

Girls were a good judge of character when it came to make-up. Especially Cordelia. If she qualified as a girl, she thought sadly but almost jokingly before remembering that her sort-of-friend had been hospitalised by her ex and was genuinely doing some good in LA; by all accounts she was really growing as a person-

Wait. Angel wouldn't sleep with someone he didn't know well. Cordy?

No. Cordy had respect for herself-some would say too much-and she knew of the curse. Buffy kicked a nameless crotch and continued on. If she wanted to get her rocks off-ew, Spike-ism- then she'd find another way.

So how did Angel lose his soul this time?


	8. Picking up henchmen in pubs

**A/N: Sorry! So much work this half term, and we had a family wedding to prepare...will try to keep posting now I'm on Christmas holiday (finally!). Happy holidays one and all!**

Sniffing out the Slayer was not difficult for Spike, being well acquainted with her scent from all that... fight prep (not stalking) that he'd done, and he and Rupes made it to the demon bar carrying Clem.

"Alright, kiddies-who's up for a fight?" This was directed primarily at the moleworms hunched in a corner, their beady eyes staring into their bloody marys and looking rather bored. "Tunnelling into the Initiative, we are. Guess who'll get lifetime protection from the slayer if they help?" Spike wheedled slowly, dragging out the words so the denser demons got his meaning.

"That the underground place? We're in. They're in some of the most fertile bits of ground and we needed some back up so we can tunnel there safely." The moleworms, of average intelligence and of excellent technique, were among the first to declare themselves collaborators.

"Yeah, and at the end of that tunnel will be the bastards who took your families." These were the nicer demons and ones with a sense of family, and were more likely to help given that incentive.

Giles shook himself out of his amazement at these demon's priorities as they all stood up to help their community, and interjected: "Spike, I really cannot condone this killing of hum-"

"Rupes, they took your bloody daughter."

"I'd kill them," cheerfully commented the affable Clem, whose demon was evidently taking more precedence.

"Very true. Let's knock out the wankers."

00000000000000000000000000

Buffy found herself quite enjoying the fight. It was something she'd never thought she would do, yet Clem's kindness and these twats' (OK, Spike-ism cut off right here and now) sadisticness (was that a word) spurred her on.

It was such an easy fight, though, that Buffy decided to simply get in the lift and walk out of there, having noticed her tendency to talk to herself during the fight simply to keep herself interested. Her ability to do this suggested that perhaps they were no danger to anyone really, not if she warned deserving demons like Clem.

"Deserving demons? God," she muttered to herself . Well. That was something she never thought she'd say before tonight.

"I'll get out of here, and find Spike's ashes, and start a new way of living." Funny how she was so in tune with the fight, she worked out her new outlook on life simply by carefully apportioning punches and doling them out in appropriate doses...

"RILEY?"

He was coming towards her, taser raised, shouting "They took you in! I said they shouldn't but thank God they did-you demon! Why didn't they neuter you?"

"Why do you think?" Buffy said calmly yet indignantly. "I am the Slayer. And there is more to goodness than you ever thought."

She punched him, hard.

He fell to the floor as the wall collapsed and long nosed demons, bursting with courage flooded in.

"We are strength! We are family!" The demons were chanting, and Clem picked up the words and started singing the song and her face burst with joy as he and Giles rode in astride the moleworms and...

All she needed now was Spike.


End file.
